My new position as IT pitboss has placed me in the elite group of persons who have access to the Forbidden Zone. The Forbidden Zone is where the electronic devices that the Bureau will use in the field are kept. The devices are so Top Secret that almost everyone is denied access to them., but their existence is not a secret. Nor are their shortcomings.
The devices were originally intended to be used for all phases of Bureau operations, but field testing proved them to be very unreliable, so their use was scaled back to a single phase. No one is sure if the bugs and glitches have been worked out or if the units actually function at all.
Each unit has to be matched to a single individual fingerprint before it can be used, so we won't know if the set-up process works until the gizmos get handed out. If the devices don't work or if the operator can't use it, they are to call the Help Desk for assistance.
One of my first tasks is to train the Help Desk clerks, but in order to do that, I need to learn how to troubleshoot the gizmos myself and at the moment my training consists of some print-outs of a PowerPoint show that seems to be composed entirely of clip art and acronyms.
There is also a CD of moving images without text- my guess is that the CD has an audio component, but I have to wait for HQ to send headphones because we have none and we are prohibited from connecting any personal items to the Secret Federal Computers.
In fact, my job is so Top Secret that I am prohibited from knowing what I do. I couldn't tell you what I do even if I wanted to or if my life depended on it, for that matter.
Why HQ couldn't send the actual PP slideshow or headphones, or a complete manual or something -anything useful at all- is beyond me, but I have learned that it's pointless to ask "why?" at the Bureau.
When you toil in a bureaucracy , asking "why?" is a lot like to trying teach a sty of flying pigs to sing a medley of songs from musicals ranging from The Wizard of Oz to Jesus Christ Superstar and then expecting the choir of hogs to fly off into the sunset, trilling 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow' as they vanish into distance. Your efforts will consume precious, irrecoverable, life-shaving days and will leave you drained and waiting in the end- only to be told that that pigs can't fly, and even if they did, all they'd do is rain shit.
Next: I have no clue.